Chapter 31: The Abandoned War Spirit

The surrounding crowd wore an array of diverse attire. Fan Caobao spotted Chen Hongxu at a glance. Feeling a strange sense of unease, he reached out to push through the crowd to get closer, but discovered something unsettling—the sensation was entirely unreal, like mist or foam. The figures and the scene seemed to be mere phantoms, yet if one refrained from touching them, they appeared extraordinarily lifelike.

Fan Caobao passed through the crowd and arrived at Chen Hongxu’s side. He found Chen’s expression unusually grave and chose to remain silent, following Chen’s gaze upward. High above, two figures—half-illusory, half-real—were locked in combat. Fan Caobao could not discern their movements, and since Chen Hongxu was of similar caliber, he could not see them clearly either; however, aided by the mental images manifesting in his mind, he understood far more than Fan Caobao did.

Suddenly, the figures around them began to wither and shrivel, visible to the naked eye, though their faces still retained an expression of fanatical devotion.

"With my body, for my master, I guard this city."

Fan Caobao turned his head in astonishment, realizing the voice had come from Chen Hongxu. Before he could ask, Chen was already streaming with tears.

*Crack.* With the sound of shattering glass, a fissure appeared on the strange eye in Chen Hongxu’s palm. It peeled away from his skin and fell to the ground, disintegrating completely until not even a speck of crystalline dust remained. As this bizarre eye fell away, the surrounding scene and the people began to twist and warp, finally vanishing into nothingness.

"From this day forth, I shall take your place in guarding this city." Ignoring the vanished surroundings, Chen Hongxu made his declaration with a resolute face.

No sooner had he spoken than the earthen mound before them exploded, showering both men in dirt and dust. A flash of white radiance silently merged into Chen Hongxu’s body, unnoticed by anyone.

Fan Caobao held a mountain of questions in his heart, while Chen Hongxu had much he needed to confide. Their eyes met, but Chen only sighed, "The Soldier Spirit was, in fact... a good person."

All words and sentiments remained unspoken. Chen Hongxu finally understood the origin of the Soldier Spirit and learned that it had sacrificed its chance at rebirth. These revelations weighed upon his heart like heavy shackles. Having no interest in conversation, Chen turned and walked away. Sensing Chen’s low spirits, Fan Caobao remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the journey. He was not a dim-witted man; he simply preferred not to appear clever. Connecting what he had seen and heard, he managed to guess a fraction of the weight Chen was carrying.

The two walked in silence until they reached the edge of the city. Before them lay a dense, vibrant forest. Chen Hongxu stopped, turned to take one last earnest look at the City of the World, then slowly closed his eyes. He stepped forward, leading Fan Caobao through a barrier and into the sea of trees.

...

On a small hill within the dense forest, several people of varying ages stood with their hands behind their backs. Their expressions were relaxed, and they chatted and laughed as if they were young nobles from prominent families or merchants' wives out for a casual spring outing.

"The number of participants in this sect entrance examination seems much higher than in previous years," a middle-aged man in brocade robes, looking somewhat stout, said with a squinting, cheerful smile. "And I’ve noticed several with impressive strength. I fear they might catch up to us in a few years."

"You lot from the Wealthy Sect, always trumpeting the virtues of worldly cultivation—it’s nothing but the stench of copper. Even if a peerless genius went to your place, they’d just be reduced to manual labor. I truly don’t know why the Martial Emperor hasn't purged you yet," sneered a short man with a sharp, monkey-like face, rolling his eyes.

"Heh!" The stout man squinted even tighter, his eyes disappearing into slits. "That is a question far beyond the pay grade of small figures like us. Perhaps your Empty Gate could help us inquire?"

"Silence." Hearing the gunpowder-laden tension between the two, a young man in white robes with a small purple sword embroidered on his chest reprimanded them impatiently.

The stout man and the short man were clearly fearful of the youth. Upon hearing the rebuke, they dared not show anger or speak further, though no one knew what they were thinking.

A beautiful woman with a fine figure, seeing the awkwardness, stepped in to smooth things over. "Little Brother Six Swords, I fear your Nine Veins Sword Sect will take the lead once again this time. Seeing the sword intent surging through this forest, there may be some remarkable figures emerging, like sword embryos."

Facing the beautiful woman, the white-robed youth’s expression softened. He bowed, saying "I dare not" three times, then added bitterly, "Below the Emperor, who would dare call themselves remarkable? On the other hand, it is said that your Ethereal Sound Sect's Sect Master, Changsheng Gongsun, is about to break through to the Human Emperor realm?"

The woman smiled enigmatically, raising a hand to pinch her earlobe while licking her red lips with a distinct, fox-like charm.

The white-robed youth turned away, knowing he would get no answers from her. Suddenly, his brow furrowed. He reached out and brushed his hand over the six swords planted in the ground before him. Six beams of light converged into a single brilliant flash, and with a sudden flicker, he and the swords vanished.

The woman frowned, her gaze fixed on a spot in the forest, a flash of surprise crossing her face. She tossed a rose into the air, leaped, and tapped a single foot onto the flower, vanishing just as the youth had.

The people around them frowned, their expressions changing drastically as they hurried toward a certain location. The fat man and the short man, seeing that everyone else had left, looked at each other and smiled; their relationship did not seem as antagonistic as it appeared on the surface. They ran one after the other toward the place where the anomaly had occurred.

...

Deep in the forest, Su Daji and her group gazed coldly at a group of men blocking their path. There were only a dozen or so of these obstacles, and although they were mostly at the Ninth Rank, they were hardly an appetizer for Su Daji and her companions. Yet, these low-level blockers employed dazzling and bizarre tactics, manipulating their spiritual energy in strange ways that made them difficult to guard against.

The two groups had already clashed once, leaving both sides injured but none dead.

Su Daji stared coldly at the man who was clearly the leader. "Why are you blocking us? We won't reach a conclusion by fighting. Shall we both take a step back and call it a day?"

Su Daji did not want to invite unnecessary trouble. After all, having just arrived in this unfamiliar place, who knew what background these attackers might have? If they were still in their own world, these Ninth-Rank clowns could have been ground to dust by Ma Ji alone.

The leader across from them laughed sinisterly. "That was just a warm-up. Now, let’s get serious."

At his signal, his men swarmed forward again.

"Death-seeking fools." Zhang Shufang’s eyes narrowed. She released her essence, grasped the Yin-Yang Diagram, and charged. She had clearly reached her limit and intended to fight for real.

As they clashed again, Su Daji and her group were shocked and enraged. These strangers fought with reckless abandon, completely ignoring the blows landing on them. Their "life-for-a-life" fighting style forced the others to act with hesitation.

The scene fell into chaotic disarray. Ma Ji retreated a step, raised his hand, and drew a high wall to block the enemy’s onslaught.

The group caught their breath. Although they had killed three or four of the attackers, they realized that if they continued like this, they would eventually be defeated—unless they, too, resorted to trading lives. But they were all proud geniuses; how could they do something so irrational?

Just as Su Daji’s group felt stuck, a ray of light shot down from the horizon. Everyone looked up to see a white-robed youth standing with his hands behind his back, stepping on six swords, his expression one of unspeakable cold pride.

The youth scanned the group with cold eyes, then waved his hand. The five swords beneath his feet hummed and shot toward the group opposing Su Daji.

Su Daji and the others were horrified—not by the youth’s profound cultivation, but because they caught a faint shadow of Su Ning’s sword intent within his own.

Inside and outside the wall were two different worlds. On one side, people stared in stunned silence; on the other, sword light surged across the wasteland, and flesh and blood flew.

Within the time it takes to brew tea, the wall drawn by Ma Ji dissolved. Su Daji and the others were shocked once more: the original enemies were lying dead in heaps, with not a single survivor, while the few standing in the field were clearly the newcomers.

Who were these people, and who were the ones that had died? Su Daji and her group were utterly bewildered.